The Disease

I am sick. It's all in my head, except when it's in my body. I always secretly think I am pregnant. The fundamental difference between Hypopregnia and Hypochondria is that if you were to ask a hypochondriac whether they wanted to be sick, they would say no. However, I want to be pregnant. I have ever since I got married 4 1/2 years ago. I was once. I now have a beautiful 13 month old daughter. But it hasn't cured me. Maybe the second will cure me. Or the 4th or 5th. Or the 19th. Who knows.

A woman's body is such a strange and unknowable creature. I try really hard to not care, or not think about it, but every thing I ever notice or feel or think I feel I can some how tie to the one torrent of thought ever-flooding through my mind--maybe I'm pregnant. Actually I probably am. Really, secretly I think I probably must be.

Thankfullly I am not a consumptive hypopregniac. I still function as an in all other ways normal and contributing member of society. I do not lie in bed all day crying or fearing or hoping. Although I will admit to lying in bed for 5-10 minutes of every day poring over the chart of my basal body temperatures and other feminine fertility signals to determine the spin I must put on it to twist it into evidence of a current pregnancy.

Pretty much the only time I really and truely and honestly believe I was not pregnant is when I ovulate--because if I just did, that means that I wasn't before. But it also means that I probably am now, what, like 36 hours along in my current prengnancy?

Well, believe it or not, sleep is more pressing on me right now than continuing my expostulations on mental pregnancy.

Until again...Adieu